Let Me Whisper My Last Goodbyes
by poeticgrace
Summary: "Come on, Berry, you can't leave me too." Puckleberry.


Rachel had stopped counting some time after seventeen days. She had been trapped here, hovering over body, unsure of exactly where she was going to end up ever since the unseasonably cool July afternoon when she had been on her way downtown to visit Kurt at his office. The last conscious thought she remembered having was about the outdated decor in the travel agency window at the corner of 76th and Lex. She could distinctly picture the overstuffed dusty mauve sofa that would have been considered the epitome of luxury circa 1992 but now only looked sad amongst the sea of shiny windows.

When she had come to in the hospital, she has been surprised to find herself staring down at her own sleeping form. There were cuts and bruises all over her face and arms, and an ugly beige plaster held her left leg firm in the sling hanging from the ceiling. Rachel had always thought that she would see flashes of her life or Finn or at least a bright light when she died. Instead, she was stuck watching a parade of family and friends coming and going from her sad little hospital room.

"Alright, Diva, you have to wake up," Mercedes had pled before turning to prayer. Her hands had been much warmer than Santana's and less sticky than Brittany's.

"Um, I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say so I'm just going to sit here," Sam had confessed. "Kurt told me I had to come, but hospitals really freak me out ever since Finn..."

"Sweetheart, Daddy and I are here," her father had said. "I don't know if you can hear us. I hope you can hear us. Honey, do you think she can hear us?"

"Rachel, your manicure is going to hell," Kurt had complained. "I can't do much for you, but I can at least make sure that you wake up with decent nail beds."

"Come on, Berry, you can't leave me too."

That was the one that had surprised Rachel the most. She was to the point where she just sort of faded in and out of the room, not really sure where she went when she wasn't at the hospital. However, when she saw Noah and his sweet spearmint orbs shining with unshed tears, she fully got the weight of what was happening. She had only seen him cry about Beth and then when Finn died. Rachel couldn't stand the thought of being another person he lost.

It was no secret that Puck and Rachel had always held a soft spot for one another. While he had long pretended that it was a bond built only on their mutual Jewish ancestors, Rachel knew that it went much deeper than that. Noah got parts of her that no one else had, not even Finn. He knew what it was really like to be the underdog and not just a temporary "loser" like Finn had been sporadically throughout high school. People had counted against Puck his entire life, and like Rachel, he had worked his ass off to shed that stigma.

But where had that gotten them really? He was sitting there in a worn Air Force t-shirt and old Indians cap while she looked dreadfully pale against the atrocious Welch's grape wallpaper background after being bulldozed by an old hatchback.

"I know I haven't been in touch, babe, but it's been hard. After things fell apart with Quinn again, I thought I might do better if I stayed as far away from Lima and everything that reminded me of it for as long as I could. Ma and Bex even moved near the base, thought it was time for a new start for all of us. But I don't know now. What do you think, Rach? Is it too late for us to get a new start?"

She wanted to scream at him that it would never be too late, that as long as he was drawing breath that he would always have a chance. However, the most she could hope for was that she could concentrate enough to move her hand even the slightest to give him a sign that she was still there and that she could hear him.

"I keep wondering if you're up there with Finn. Part of me has to think you would like that," he mused softly, brushing his thumb carefully over her lifeless fingers. "But I'm too selfish to give up on you that easily. I should probably be gracious and just let you go without a fight. Maybe that's what you want to do, I don't know. But we're not done, Rach, we're not even started. All the stuff in high school with Finn and Quinn...we never really had a chance. But I still wanted one, and I have to think that you did too."

He took a deep breath to quell the sobs threatening to spill over any minute. "Do you remember that time that Kurt did the flash mob at the mall? I never told you that was my idea. And the song that Finn sang to you at Nationals? That was mine too. The pink roses that showed up in your locker after Finn forgot your three-month anniversary - I couldn't stand how disappointed you looked when you told Tina about it. I was always willing to give someone else credit as long as it meant you were happy." Puck stopped for a moment to gather himself. "I still am. I'd do anything if it meant that you go to live today and tomorrow and for a long, long time after that."

Finally, he bent over and pulled a cup and straw from the brown bag that was beneath his chair. "It's grape," he whispered as he put the straw in the cup. He held it in his left hand while using the right one to push her hair back. "I don't have much, Rach, but I have this. I just hope it's still your favorite."

Later, Rachel would tell Puck that she didn't hear angels singing or see bright rays of golden light or wave goodbye to Finn outside the proverbial pearly gates when she came back. Instead, she heard him start to sing a song, their song, and that was what brought her back.

FIN.


End file.
